Mal Yol Vahdin
by Kallashandra
Summary: A series of anecdotes often told from the point of view of those who interact with the dragonborn, Mal. Not chronologically in order, will tell you at beginning of chapter if set before other chapters. May order them at a later date. Stuff happens before the start of the game! Female dragonborn, no pairings or romance decided upon if there is going to be any.
1. 1 Visiting High Hrothgar

Disclaimer: I don't own Elder Scrolls.

This is set before the events of Helgen.

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Visiting High Hrothgar

It was during one of Arngeir's weekly visits with Paarthurnax that the ancient dragon looked over the edge of the Throat of the World and hummed. At Arngeir's inquisitve look, he offered an amused smile. "I believe the Greybeards will be havjng company soon."

"What?" Arngeir scoffed. "No one climbs the seven thousand steps these days except the young man who delivers our supplies. None of Skyrim, or even the Empire, is interested in learning the Way of the Voice anymore."

Paarthurnax hummed again, still distractedly looking over the south-western edge of the mountain at something only his draconic eyesight could see.

* * *

Arngeir let the dragons remark slip from his mind almost immediately after he let the path to Paarthurnax's Wall close behind him again, secure in his thoughts. After all, even if someone did climb the seven thousand steps, the doors were locked and he wouldn't open them unless the person sincerely wanted to learn the Way of the Voice.

So it was to his great surprise a few days later, during his early morning prayers and ponderings on the language of the dragons, that the heavy copper doors to the courtyard swung open to admit a figure clad in dark red leather and a short hooded cape trimmed in fur. As the doors shut behind the figure with an echoing thud, the figure shook back their hood, revealing a strong feminine face with short platinum blonde hair swept messily back from her face.

"Hello!" She almost chirped at Arngeir. He stared at her in surprise before rising to greet her.

"Welcome. If I may ask, how did you get in here?" He asked her. She flashed him a grin, blue eyes unlike anything Arngeir had seen since he was a young boy shining in the candlelight with exhileration set above high cheekbones that were flushed pink from the cold wind outside.

"I climbed. Your front doors are all very imposing, but they don't really work if people come from above and slip over the wall." She chattered. "Actually, I would have gone higher but there's this wicked blizzard going on just above your courtyard that would have torn my wings off, so I figured-"

"I'm sorry, did you just say wings?" Arngeir interrupted her babbling. She blinked in surprise.

"What? No, I said arms. Why would I say wings? I'm no dragon or anything." She peered at him. "Are you alright? Maybe the cold, or the isolation, or even just your old age is finally catching up to you. You know, this is a horrible place to retire to. You should go somewhere warmer, like Markarth or Whiterun or Falkreath. Actually, go to Falkreath! They have a really nice lake with some sunken ruins where the slaughterfish live and people are always leaving stuff there-"

"That's very nice," Arngeir interrupted her again. He had a feeling that if left to her own devices, she'd prattle on for hours. "But you still haven't told me exactly how you got here."

"Oh. Well, I was wandering around Falkreath, exploring the lands between my house and Riverwood - I do that, you know? - when I overheard someone say that the Throat of the World is the tallest mountain in all of Tamriel! So of course I just Had to climb it." She rattled off. "It took me a while - some of those faces are pretty sheer after all - but after the ice troll it was easy pickings to find a way up. You've got this really nice shelf that takes a bit of jumping to reach but the snow there's really soft and it brings you right over you're nice big wall."

"Let me get this straight." Arngeir rubbed the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stave of the headache that was slowly building. "You heard that this mountain was the tallest in the world, so you climbed it. Why?"

"I like heights."

"Right. And instead of climbing the seven thousand steps like a normal person, you chose to literally climb it, sheer rock faces and slippery ice and all."

"Paths are for pussies. But not Khajiit. Khajiit are awesome. Especially M'aiq." She shrugged.

"And you fought and presumably killed an ice troll by yourself."

"Yep!" She beamed at him. "My parents have been teaching me how to look after myself since I tried to pet a wolf at the age of four!"

Arngeir groaned. "You know what? Welcome to High Hrothgar. Please respect our solitude while you're here, and you'll have to leave the way you came in. I don't want to disturb the other Greybeards by opening the front door for you."

"You mean you want me to climb down the mountain the way I came up? No problem!" She chirped. He resolutely turned back to his prayers and ignored her, and she disappeared from his sight soon after.

Later that day, after she had exited into the courtyard again and presumably started her climb down the mountain side, one of the other Greybeards showed Arngeir the potted plants which were all missing their flowers. Another showed him the side rooms, which were missing the potions kept there in case of frostbite or injuries from the snow and each other. A third brought him a note found in the dining hall which sent chills down his spine. The message was innocent enough - it merely said 'Nice table'. However, it was written in perfect Dov.

He went to visit Paarthurnax after that. The ancient dragon looked at the letter, looked at Arngeir, looked over the edge of the mountain where presumably he could see the impertinent girl making her way down, and hummed. Arngeir almost tore his hair out in frustration at the nonchalance the Dragon was showing.

"Don't fret over it, Arngeir." Paarthurnax assured him. "Did you get her name?"

Arngeir felt like a foolish young man trying to learn his first Word again. "Uh...no." He admitted. "I was trying to get her to leave before she disturbed our way of life or talked us to death. Or herself to death."

"Did you at least find out where she's from?"

"She said something about a house in Falkreath?" Arngeir offered. Paarthurnax smiled indulgently, as much as dragons can smile.

"Send her a letter and ask for the items back."

That was all the advice the ancient dragon gave Arngeir on the matter, so he did just that. Later, when the young man who brought the Greybeards their supplies for month arrived, Arngeir gave him the letter. The young man was dubious as to whether the letter would reach her, and Arngeir had to admit he may be right. After all, Arngeir only had a description of her to go off - young female adventurer who likes heights - and there were sure to be plenty of those around the Hold.

The next month, a package arrived wrapped in a familiar fur cape with the rest of the supplies, much to Arngeir's surprise. Carefully wrapped in the soft fox fur and tied in seperate bundles with twine were fresh cuts of lavender, dragons tongue and tundra cotton. There were also three jars of snowberries, jazbay grapes and juniper berries and a handfull of potions. Not only did she return the potions she had taken, she had also sent a few cure disease, resist frost and minor healing potions.

At the very bottom of the package was a note once again written in perfect Dov. 'Thanks for letting me visit!'

* * *

AN: This is a chapter in a minor story I was thinking about, based on my own game. Only this is set before the events of Helgen, not after. I actually climbed the mountain from just above the Falkreath Stormcloak Camp and came up along a shelf of snow that brought me right over the walls of High Hrothgar.

The name of the story is the name of the dragonborn - or at least, the name she goes by. It means Little Fire Maiden in Dov.


	2. 2 Childish Fun

Disclaimer: I don't own the Elder Scrolls.

This chapter is set before Visiting High Hrothgar. Mal is twelve.

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Childish Fun

Adina was a very happy Nordic woman approaching middle age. Her hair was just starting to be touched with grey, she had a handsome Nord husband named Sven, and two children - a son and a daughter. She'd been adventuring when she was younger, which was where she'd met Sven, cleared a few dwarven ruins, and the gold that elf in Markarth had paid them for the dwarven stuff ensured that the couple could retire early.

They'd bought a piece of land just outside Falkreath overlooking the lake and spent the first few years building the first part of their house before having children, which then led to the addition of a main hall and a second story, with a kitchen off one side, and alchemist tower at the back and an enchanters tower on the other side with a cellar for Sven to craft and brew mead in.

Their son, Haldor, took after their father with dusty brown hair, but held Adina's mothers disposition towards books - in that he couldn't get enough of them. He had read every book in the house multiple times, including the spellbooks that Adina had stashed in the enchanting bookshelves, and was now practising the spells in the small balcony above the enchanters tower.

Their daughter on the other hand, didn't seem to take after either of them. She had inherited Sven's mothers platinum blonde hair and deep blue eyes, but the wild energy that she seemed to contain wasn't evident on either side of the family. At twelve years old, she could barely read, and her handwriting was even worse. At least they had been able to teach her to speak Nordic instead of the strange made up language that she had started speaking as a toddler, though sometimes she lapsed back into the strange, harsh speech, and she always introduced herself as Mal, instead of Maleeka.

The sound of light footsteps across the roof had Adina sighing in exasperation. One of the first things Adina and Sven had had to do when Maleeka was old enough to climb trees was reinforce the roof - the rambunctious child adored high places and the roof was the highest point she could get to at the moment. This also meant that she climbed down the roof if she was playing at the top of either of the towers instead of just coming down the ladder like a normal person.

The house was strangely silent with Maleeka off doing whatever it was she was doing and Haldor upstairs. Adina slid a load of apple dumplings into the oven and brushed tne excess dough off her hands.

"Mum!" Haldor's holler broke the momentary silence. "Maleeka's fighting a necromancer behind the house!"

A necromancer? Near Lakeview Manor? Nonsense. Adina shook it off as just a childish game, until he yelled again, true panic evident in his voice.

"She's setting fire to stuff!"

Adina dropped the pan and grabbed her sword from its hook beside the fireplace, dashing out the front doors. Outside, Haldor pointed her towards the lake and the small column of smoke she could barely see rising from the woods. Darting around the path, she burst through the underbrush with her sword blazing, only to freeze at the sight in front of her.

Maleeka was sitting beside the smouldering corpse of a scantily clad male necromancer, a skeleton splayed out on the bloody altar behind her as the young girl read a book on conjuration. An arrow was hazardously shoved into the cheek of the necromancer who was quite obviously dead if the glassy look in his eyes were any indication.

"Maleeka, are you alright?" Adina hurried over to her daughter, who looked up and brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, dying a chunk of it red from the blood smeared on her hand.

"I'm fine. I had the arrow, and Haldor showed me the fire spell a few days ago. It was really cool! It just set fire to lots of things, and the man screamed but it was too late because his dress just went up in flames." She babbled.

Adina frowned. "What were you doing, coming out here? You know you're not supposed to play around the back of the house. You could have been hurt!"

"Well, I was playing archery up in the alchemy tower when I heard someone talking, and I thought that maybe daddy had come home the back way today, so I looked out over the cliff. Only it wasn't daddy, it was some nasty elf man putting these bones all out, so I quickly grabbed my arrow and climbed down the house." She babbled. "Then I ran to the cliff and I jumped off, and I landed on top of the man and he fell to the ground, so I stabbed him with my arrow. Only then he got angry and pushed me, so I got angry back and burnt him with the spell Haldor was playing with the other day. And then he started screaming, and then he stopped, and now you're here!"

Adina looked at her daughter in bewilderment. "Did Haldor teach you that spell?"

"Well...no. I just watched him. But it was so easy! I don't know why he complains so much. Look, I can also heal!" She held her hand up to a scratch from when the necromancer pushed her off and Adina could only watch in amazement as the scratch scabbed over before healing completely.

"Maleeka, what did we tell you about enemies?" Adina asked her daughter. The young girl tilted her head in confusement. "Stay quiet and get either mummy or daddy."

"Oh. I thought that was for wolves, not elf men!" Maleeka protested.

"It's for all enemies, sweet heart." Adina sighed and grabbed Maleeka's hand. "Come on, home time. And we have a new rule, okay? No spells unless mummy or daddy is there to watch and make sure you don't hurt anything."

"Oh. Okay." Maleeka pouted. "But you have to call me Mal Yol from now on. It's my name."

"Whatever you say, Maleeka."

* * *

Later that night, Adina curled into Sven's arms and sighed. "We need to do something, Sven."

"About what, dear?"

"Maleeka. She's so...wild. She only listens to us because we're her parents. She's like a beast trapped in human form. She scares me sometimes, but I can't show her that because I'm scared that she'll never listen to me again if I do, and then she'll hurt someone really badly." Adina admitted. Sven shook his head.

"She's not even started her womanhood yet, Adina." He tried to assure her. "She's just a little girl playing archer with arrows."

"She stabbed a necromancer in the cheek with an arrow today, and then burnt him alive, Sven. What twelve year old does that?" Adina asked. Sven had no answer for her. "What are we going to do."

"I suppose the first thing we'll do is teach her how to use a bow. Arrows are for shooting, not stabbing." Sven joked. At Adina's sharp look, he sighed. "Look, I don't know. We'll figure something out. We knew she'd be a handful when she was born, remember?"

"Yeah. But I at least expected her to act human." Adina muttered into her pillow.

On the other side of the wall, Maleeka dreamt of sleek wings and Skyrim from above the clouds.

* * *

AN: Trouble in childhood! So this is Mal as a child, and the name her parents gave her - Maleeka. This is somewhat from a scene in game - I was in the alchemists tower and saw a necromancer just behind my house, only I shot him with an arrow and then climbed down the house, Mal just jumped over the cliff and stabbed him with an arrow.


	3. 3 Dragon Names

Disclaimer: I don't own the Elder Scrolls.

Set a few weeks after the attack on Helgen, and obviously after Visiting High Hrothgar.

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Dragon Name

Haming stared at the blonde woman who had sat down in his grandfathers seat without a word, eliciting yet another rant about city folk from the old man. He vaguely recognised her from the Imperial carts, when the soldiers had brought in a large group of Stormcloaks. She didn't look like a Stormcloak though, as she hadn't worn the frost blue sash all Stormcloaks wore as part of their uniform and she wasn't wearing one now.

"You were at Helgen." He stated when the silence became too much, and she nodded. His grandfathers grumblings had moved from the rudeness of city folk to the Divines, but Haming had heard it all over the past few weeks and paid no mind. By the Gods, had it really only been a few weeks since his world ended? "One day I'm going to be strong enough to kill a dragon all by myself."

"You probably will." She finally stated, and the confidence in her voice mad him feel confident in his declaration that someone believed in him. "You should learn archery first - can't really attack a flying dragon with a sword after all. Just remember, arrows are for shooting, not stabbing."

"What?" The piece of advice confused Haming, as he'd never heard of someone using an arrows to stab something. The woman gave a face he had seen many times on his grandfathers face when he spoke about his dad - a half smile, half grimace that spoke of bitter remembrance and unforgiven arguments.

"Something my dad told me once, after I stabbed a necromancer in the face with an arrow." She told him, and his jaw dropped in disbelief.

"You stabbed a necromancer in the face with an arrow?" Haming shrieked, and Froki scoffed behind him, adding it to his long list of condemnations about city folk.

"I didn't have a bow!" She defended herself. She crossed her arms and pouted when Haming laughed at her excuse, which only made the boy laugh harder. "I was only twelve."

"You should have gotten your mum and dad to fight the necromancer for you." He told her, but inwardly he thought she was cool to have faced a necromancer so young. She could be his new hero, he decided, and he could learn to fight dragons and go out and adventure with her when he was stronger.

"That's what they used to say too. I used to always tell them I could handle anything." She laughed ironically here, and the sound made Haming shift in his seat. "And now that I want their help to fight dragons, they're not here."

Haming stopped chuckling at her, and they fell into another awkward silence. Froki had given up on running her out of the cabin with his disparaging remarks and left to cut firewood. The sound of wood splitting echoed slightly in the small cabin.

"My name's Haming." He offered. She smiled at him, her blue eyes glimmering with some emotion he didn't know.

"I'm Mal Yol Vahdin. You can call me Mal." Haming tested the unfamiliar name on his tongue.

"What's it mean? I've never heard a language like that before." He asked.

"Little Fire Maiden. I...chose it while I was growing up." She told him. He frowned at her use of the word 'chose', but didn't ask. "It's an ancient language, not one people know nowadays, and most people don't like my name when they find out what language it's in. Brings up too many bad memories and stories."

"Oh." He stared at the worn table, trying to think of a dead language that no one liked anymore and failing. Mal stood suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"It's probably time I pushed on anyway - lots to explore around these parts. I've never been this far east before." She told him cheerily, and he nodded. "Remember to ask your grandad to teach you archery, and you'll be fighting dragons in no time. See you later!"

She offered a wave offered her shoulder ad reached for the door just as Haming blurted out, "What language is your name?"

Mal froze with her hand on the latch and he stammered as her tried to recover the words. The smile she threw him over her shoulder was frosty, and made the straight line of her nose and strong jawline seem forbidding, whereas before they had seemed adventurous and cheerful.

"Dragon."

With that she was gone, disappearing into the encroaching gloom. Haming's heart clenched, and he shuttered in on himself. His new hero, Little Fire Maiden, chose a dragon name while she was growing up and used it. Little Fire Maiden, who had survived a dragon attack and escaped the fires of Helgen with her life. His heart thumped loudly in his ears, and determination grew in his mind. He would grow stronger, as strong - no even stronger than Mal Yol Vahdin.

And maybe next time she visited, if she came back, he'd ask her for a dragon name of his own.

* * *

AN: Yeah. I never understood how you could just walk into Froki's shack, see Haming and just ignore him like that. So this is perhaps a way that the interaction could go after the dragon attack. Really short one, but then again - anecdotes. They're not exactly long.


	4. 4 Bedlam in Raven Rock

Disclaimer: I don't own the Elder Scrolls.

This chapter is set quite a while after Dragon Names and the events of Helgen.

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Bedlam in Raven Rock

Delvin sighed. Brynjolf was staring holes in the back of his head again while he was trying to enjoy a cup of good mead, and to be honest it was becoming slightly annoying. It seemed whenever he turned around, Brynjolf was glaring at him.

It had started weeks ago, after Delvin had given the new recruit a job over in Raven's Rock. They'd just started hearing about it, and Delvin had sent her over to create a little bit of bedlam and spread the word about the Thieves Guild. How was he supposed to know that she'd be gone for three months with no contact and no news of her filtering through any of his associates? It was only supposed to be a simple bedlam job, and now Brynjolf was cursing his very bones for losing the best recruit the Guild had seen in years.

There was a clatter from the Ratway which had everyone in the Flagon alert and watching the door with suspicion. The person outside cursed and pushed open the heavy door with a grunt, stumbling through the slight gap with a large pack strapped to their back.

"Delvin, you arse, I am never doing another job in Raven's Rock again." A familiar voice stated, and Delvin had never been happier to see a head of messy platinum hair. Brynjolf was beside her in an instant, surrepticiously checking her for injuries as he tried to take the pack from her shoulders.

"What happened, lass? Did they catch you?"

She snorted and waved the red-haired man away as she strode further into the Flagon. "They didn't notice a thing! I stripped their little village clean of everything from ash yams to gold necklaces and no one noticed a single thing! How am I supposed to create bedlam when they don't even notice that they've been robbed?"

She pouted and Delvin chuckled into his tankard. "And here we were thinking that you'd been thrown in gaol or something."

"Not bloody likely. I even went out and found the secret exit just in case they did grab me." She grumbled. Brynjolf looked as thoug he was going to chastise her for a moment but shut his mouth when Tonilia spoke up instead.

"So what'd you get then?" The dark woman asked, eyeing the full bag resting at Mal's feet.

"Everything." Mal deadpanned and upended the bag. She wasn't joking - there were clay pots wrapped in fine clothes and fur pelts, large vegetables that looked like giant purple turnips, enchanted weapons carefully sheathed away and nicknacks crammed into every corner and crevice she could find. Gems glittered in the candlelight and rings bounced and rolled away from the pile to be picked up by curious onlookers. She pulled a smaller satchel from her belt and emptied it as well, and potions and rare ingredients tumbled out to join the pile.

"I don't know if I can sell all of this." Tonilia murmered as she stared at the pile in wonder. "It's a bit much for one fence, you know?"

"Not all of it's going to be fenced." Mal told her. "I wrote a list of what I want to keep on the ship back here; you can have everything else. And the yams can be thrown in the stew pot for all I care -they're not worth selling, really."

"I think you took more than five hundred gold worth of good there." Delvin told her, inspecting a silver sapphire ring that had rolled near his stool. She snorted again.

"Doesn't matter how much you steal if they don't even notice it's gone. The town's a bust, Delvin - not worth setting up shop in." She crouched down and started sorting items into piles, occasionally throwing something to Tonilia who was hovering over her shoulder. "I'm never doing a job there again anyway."

The conversation was ended there with a sharp nod of her head and the rest of the thieves wandered away, surrpeticiously pocketing a few valuables. Delvin watched her eyes as she noted each and every thing they took, and knew she'd have them back before tomorrow. After Brynjolf wandered away, presumably to tell Mercer she was back, she started muttering something to herself. Delvin thought he heard someting about a Dragon Priest and mind control, but shook it off and started weighing up the jobs he had available. Brynjolfs glower flashed in his mind and he grimaced and decided against giving her another job for a while.

Maybe Vex had somethjng a bit closer to home?

* * *

AN: This is mildly based on one of my own experiences. Delvin gave me a bedlam job in Raven's Rock and I went over there to complete it like normal. When I got there however, no matter how much I stole, the quest didn't trip. I stole everything from yams to flwaless gems and jewellery. I even stole all the sujamma from one of the stalls right in the middle of Raven Rocks marketplace, and nothing registered. Eventually I just gave up and quit the job.


End file.
